Saturday, 26 November 2011

So technically it should be part II, given that this was only our second trip to the abandoned copper mine workings above Coniston, but someone's already used the name for a high concept film exploring the human condition using a caving trip as a metaphor for a search into the parts of our psyche usually deeply hidden in the shadows, oh and it has monsters and lycra clad, ice axe brandishing girls in it too.

While we didn't actually see any monsters, something had definitely been knawing at the rope leading deeper into one of the veins. At least it was anchored to a bomb proof railway line.

Though the vastness of some of the stopes on the Hospital level gave witness to the riches that had been found in these hillsides, lengthy tunnels to nowhere reminded us of the days and weeks of hopefull toil, following a thin, mineral vein that yeilded no viable reserves of ore.

Reading Paul in awe of the ore.

Emerging into a wild night it was off to sample the wares of the Black Bull, a great pub with the further advantage of it's own en suite brewery. Fortunately they also do carryout, so after a pint we could relocate to our campsite for the night at Tilberthwaite.

The Met office warning of high winds and torrential rain had the softer members of the TNC scurrying home to write blogs, while those hardened to the elements set off with Reading Paul for a day's mountain biking at Whinlatter.

Saturday, 19 November 2011

Given that the season has only just begun, alibis seem to be arriving ever earlier in the week.
John's arrived on Wednesday, which allowed ample time for the alibi to be fully investigated. incredibly it appears to have been genuine, or John has set up a call and e-mail response centre solely to back up his excuses.
Phil's arrived on the night in the form of a doctors note, but Tom left his 'til the very last minute with the classic quote, "I think I've left my SRT gear at home." Unfortunately he'd forgotten to clear a spare pulley jammer, assorted krabs and all the old bits of tat out of his bag. Thus a few minutes later he was fully equiped and ready to go.
Dick was keen to be rigging again and set off down the pitches with a 10 out of 10 for his skills and a massive improvement on my efforts a fortnight earlier (given 5/10 and more tellingly re-rigged by Tom before he set off down).
As with reaching a summit on a mountain, it's always nice to reach a sump in a cave and even better if there are two. The dive lines disappearing into the murk a testament to divers being a different breed.

A few pretties completed the trip before Tom ably filled in for John by declaring in a headmasterly tone that it was time for the pub.